The Giant Room
Footstep, footstep on the dissolving floor. Where is my home? Tangled beneath the tangible jungles of ambiance. “Boo,” says the ghost, “who,” asks the lonely girl on the swing who’s hair is caged by the ashes of distraught demons. Weird. Or rather, wired by corpses. The horses occupy the trolls who’s faces imitate the lost souls frozen in dysfunctional places. This writing…? Pointless. Who’s diary does this account for? What fist is South Pawed? These, those, my foes, I suppose. Close the book.
By thatdudeeddi http://thatdudeeddie.wordpress.com/
I have chosen my favourite of ThatdudeEddies poems to review. Not sure why it is my favourite and I’m quite sure my interpretation is faulty, but that is why I like poetry – because I read something different into the same words. Sometimes it is disappointing to discover the author’s true meaning!
Anyway, possibly the reason that this is my favourite is because it is so atmospheric. It is slightly gothic with the mention of ghosts and corpses and the image of the girl on the swing (young?) with her hair flowing loose gives me a ‘secret garden’ image, but then the suggestion of lonely and trapped overlays the image and changes it into something much darker and frankly more interesting. My favourite line is ‘hair is caged by the ashes of distraught demons’, but I don’t get a feeling of fear, ‘ambience’ maybe from the girl. I feel that the ‘close the book’ reference suggests not just the pointless diary, but that this really is a ‘storybook’ image and we should disregard fairytales with ghosts and scary things and just say ‘who’ like the girl does. What is there to be afraid of?
I like the thought that maybe the readers footsteps entering the book at the beginning and feeling the quicksand effect of not being on solid ground. Far from home.
When we feel like this, maybe we should ‘close the book’ and ignore the ghosties and ghoulies we worry about in the night.
Or maybe I’ve got totally the wrong end of the stick. Either way, I like it.
